Ghalib, Shefta, Nayyar, Azurda, and Zauq—the world will never again bring forth such faces as these.

Here, the poet looks back with tender grief at the golden age of Delhi's literary culture, invoking towering luminaries like Ghalib, Shefta, Nayyar, Azurda, and Zauq. It reads like an intimate sigh of nostalgia, realizing that an era defined by such peerless wit, depth, and poetic brilliance has vanished forever into history. The poignant finality in 'hargiz' (never) reminds us that time rarely, if ever, repeats its rarest cultural miracles.